Free The Mummy Tomb of the Dragon Emperor by Max Allan Collins

boy shook his head. “No, Mom. That’s not my dream, working at a museum. Yours maybe . . . not mine.”
    That deflated and hurt her, though her son didn’t notice. O’Connell did, however, and said, “So, then . . . what’s your dream? What’s your big plan?”
    Alex shrugged. “I’d be lying if I said I had one. Look, I like to play it by ear, a little on the fast and loose side. I’m thinking maybe I’ll just travel the world and seek my fortune . . . like you did.”
    “Those were different times,” his father said. “And I was in a position where there was no choice but to make my own way. Son, the world is considerably more dangerous today than when I was your age.”
    Another shrug. “I’ll take my chances.”
    Evy sat forward; her tone was sweet, not at all critical. “Dear, we were rather hoping you might go back to Harvard, and finish up. Maybe Roger can pave the way, as he said . . . ?”
    Alex smiled, but more to himself than to his parents. He shook his head. “Who told you I dropped out? Did the college contact you? How did you think this was going to work? You two would just show up and talk me out of it? Crash my adventure . . .”
    O’Connell said, “We didn’t know you were here.”
    “Dad . . . come on . . .”
    “Son, we weren’t expecting to find you at all, considering we thought you were in school in Massachusetts.”
    With a suspicious glance at Jonathan over at the bar, Alex said, “Well, Uncle Jon knew, in case there was a problem or emergency or something.”
    Evy seemed hurt again. “You felt you could confide in your uncle, and not your parents? We have to trust each other, Alex—we can’t keep hurtful secrets. This is not how a proper family behaves.”
    Alex’s eyes widened; he grinned mirthlessly. “Proper family? We may be related, but we haven’t been any kind of family, in a long, long time, much less a ‘proper’ one.”
    He shook his head and quickly climbed out of the booth.
    From his vantage point at the bar, Jonathan saw this and followed Alex up the stairs and out past the doormen and onto the street, a world crammed with steaming food carts, rickshaws, pimps, beggars, and club hounds. The boy moved through the exotic bustle and his uncle clambered after him.
    “Alex! Wait . . .”
    Alex turned slowly and faced his uncle.
    “You need to give your folks a chance, my boy. You’ve thrown them quite a curve . . .”
    The boy shook his head, waved his arms. “They never change, Uncle Jon! You know what sort of discovery I’ve just made, and how do they react? They still treat me the same—like I’m ten years old!”
    “Be fair—you caught them by surprise. And you weren’t exactly supposed to be here now, were you?”
    Alex sighed. “What the hell are they doing in Shanghai? Don’t you think it’s a little strange that they show up, just as I’m about to make my mark?”
    Jonathan put a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “I understand. Your parents do throw a long shadow . . .”
    “Are you kidding? More like a total eclipse . . .”
    Jonathan squeezed his nephew’s shoulder. “Come back inside, my boy. I’ve got some champagne on ice—to hell with Coca-Cola. Have a couple of glasses of the bubbly, and trust your old uncle—you will feel better.”
    But Alex only shook his head. “Sorry, Uncle Jon. Not tonight. Rain check.”
    And he turned and stalked off and was soon swallowed in the late-night throng.
    Moments later, Evelyn and Rick O’Connell burst from the club onto the neon-drenched street.
    O’Connell was right behind his wife, who was livid.
    “This is all your fault!”
    “My fault?” O’Connell shook his head in disbelief. “You’re the one who constantly smothered that boy—couldn’t leave him alone for five minutes without wiping his nose.”
    She wheeled and got in her husband’s face. “Maybe I was overcompensating for the fact you never took any real interest in your son’s life.”
    O’Connell’s eyes popped.